


Dead Lips

by PalindromeIsntOne



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, M/M, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-28
Updated: 2014-12-28
Packaged: 2018-03-04 00:44:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2903096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PalindromeIsntOne/pseuds/PalindromeIsntOne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>War, gold, death, and this is what he thinks of. Thorin’s lips. A short insight set at the end of Battle of Five Armies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dead Lips

Bilbo feels the cold seeping through his knees and shins as he kneels beside Thorin. It is unreal. He shakes Thorin mechanically, rocking him side to side. He doesn’t really know why he’s doing it anymore. They’re all alone on the ice but Bilbo doesn’t feel alone, as if his brain cannot comprehend the idea that’s he’s the only one really there. He found Thorin. They made it. _The eagles are coming._

The hole in Thorin’s abdomen is too big for a little hobbit like him to plug.

He’d used his last words to deny Thorin death, of course he had. Now he wishes he had said something else. If people valued home more than gold, Thorin had said. _You are my home, Thorin._ Perhaps that was what he might have said. Maybe he would have said something else.

Thorin’s lips are cracked, cold, and bloodied.

War, gold, death, and this is what he thinks of. Thorin’s lips. Not breathing, not moving, not speaking. He thinks of leaning in, of pressing a breath and a prayer and a heartful of unfulfilled moments to them. It would be a very un-hobbitlike liberty to take. He almost laughs.

His tears hide themselves in Thorin’s hair. He cannot do it. How can he just go back to the Shire? He’s not the hobbit he was when he left. He’s a… burglar. Thorin’s burglar. A burglar that stole an arkenstone from him but now cannot steal a simple kiss.

He grips Thorin’s arm, Thorin’s hand. This much is hard enough – to touch Thorin without being touched back. It is wrong. He feels hollow. Sounds come from below – sounds of life, and death, and metal. They’d come all this way. Thorin had left the gold; he’d made it out of the mountain. It couldn't end like this.

 _In sickness and in health._ The words drift into his mind, unbidden. His tears fall onto Thorin’s face. _In sickness and in health._


End file.
